"All right," Bruce said, gesturing firmly with his hand. "This wasn't supposed to happen, but it happened."

When Bruce asked his long-time friend to come with him to Vegas for a fundraising trip for Wayne Foundation, neither of them had expected to come out of it married.

Bruce was angry at himself, really.

He wasn't sure whether their drinks had been spiked or they'd just had more than usual, but neither of them remembered what had happened, only that they'd woken up with pounding headaches and a very legally binding marriage license.

Maybe they could prove they were both of unsound mind at the time of the marriage and get an annulment.

A trusted member of Bruce's legal team was already on it. If the media caught wind of it, they'd surely write it off as Brucie being Brucie.

He'd very much prefer it if it never got out that they'd been married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator, though.

He offered his childhood friend a cup of water and a special painkiller, which he had because Bruce was always prepared for everything. Well, almost everything.

Marrying overnight and having no recollection of it was one of the very few scenarios he'd never considered. "Take this. It'll help with the headache."

With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry for dragging you into this," Bruce said, turning toward his friend. "I know I'm probably the last person you wanted to marry. If there's anything I can do to make this easier, I'll do it. Just...please, bear with me for a bit. My lawyer is already working on getting us out of this."

His lips set into a thin line. He didn't address the other elephant in the room—the fact they'd woken up in bed, together, and very conspicuously unclothed. They didn't do things like that.

Well, they had, once, a lifetime ago.

Then Bruce had left Gotham to train, and it had almost killed their friendship. This was a path he didn't want to go down again. Did he?